Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Biscuit
by Phoenix with a Head Cold
Summary: A parody of the third book. THE TRUE STORY! Not the story that J.K. Rowling made up! Not the way Harry pretended to be...or pretended not to be. THAT IS THE QUESTION! Okay, on with the show!
1. Happy Little Intro

Harry and the Prisoner of Bis-cu-it By Yellow  
  
Disclaimer: The third to the trilogy of the retold Harry Potter stories from the assorted authors of Black Sparkles. These stories are based on an inside joke gone way too far. The characters belong to JK, Matrix belong to whoever made it, but the joke is MIIIINE!. So sit back and enjoy, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Bis-cu-it  
  
No sit back, recline.  
  
Are you relaxed?  
  
You don't look relaxed.  
  
That's better.  
  
But don't fall asleep!  
  
Yes, like that. 


	2. Birthday

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Bis-cu-it  
  
  
  
Harry Potter was sitting in his room pondering life, AGAIN, when he heard some owls. There were about a million of them, they were all bringing him birthday presents, but keep in mind that everyone hates him and he has such a miserable life.  
  
Harry opened his first letter, it was from Ron.  
  
Dear Harry, How can you roll a die with 999 sides? It's just impossible, Man! Ron  
  
Harry pondered this for a while, he pondered, and he pondered, and yet he still pondered. A week later, Harry came up with an answer!  
  
Dear Ron, You're a freaking moron! Harry  
  
He looked over the letter, it seemed satisfactory, so he sent it out.  
  
Harry looked over at the other owls; they were now lying on their sides half-starved. He picked up the next letter, it was from Hermione.  
  
Dear Harry, I hope you are having a good summer. Ron and I were having a sporting dispute on whether dice could have 999 sides or not. I told him they could; they just wouldn't be in the shape of a cube. Could you help us in deciding who is right and who is wrong? Hermione  
  
P.S. - I have also included your birthday present. It is from both Ron, and me. (Ron couldn't afford a present of his own.)  
  
Harry frowned as he put away the letter, why was Hermione over at Ron's? Why wasn't he invited over there as well? Did Ron hate him? Did Hermione hate him? Was his life to complicated for them? Did anyone like him at all? Did he have any friends whatsoever?  
  
Harry shrugged. He didn't care, as long as he got birthday presents! He opened up the birthday present very slowly. He made sure that none of the wrapping paper was torn. He laid it out on his bed, smoothing out all of the wrinkles. Suddenly, like a snake catching its prey, he grabbed the wrapping paper and took a bite out of it.  
  
Harry let out a giant belch and sighed contentedly. He looked at the present that used to be housed between the blessed wrapping paper; it was a solid gold soda can.  
  
"How elementary." He muttered to himself, "I bet it only cost 10 galleons! Ron and Hermione are so cheap!" He opened the soda can, and took a sip, "And it's grape! I'm allergic to artificial grape flavouring!"  
  
Harry started breaking out in hives all over his neck, back, and arms. He began scratching at them while secretly plotting at ways to get back at his so called best friends.  
  
He threw the soda can at the wall, spilling grape soda all over the floor. He figured he'd just make Aunt Petunia clean it up later, what did he care?  
  
Harry looked at the clock and saw that it was 1am, he was now thirteen! He began to jump up and down on his bed singing loudly at the top of his voice. "I'm thirteen! I'm thirteen! I'm no longer twelve, I'm THIRTEEEEEEEN!"  
  
Uncle Vernon must have heard this, because he began yelling from the other room. "Harry! What are you doing? It's one in the morning!"  
  
"Yes, I know, and I'M THIRTEEEEEEN!"  
  
"Harry, please shut up and go to bed! Some people need sleep!"  
  
Harry sighed; the Dursley's must hate him. Why else would they yell at him and not let him celebrate his birthday at one o'clock in the morning? He would have to whine to all his friends about how the Dursley's hated him so horribly.  
  
Harry began to feel tired. He yawned, lay down, and closed his eyes. Thirty seconds later he sat up, opened his eyes, and looked at the clock, no time had passed. He decided he couldn't get to sleep the traditional way so he took his bedside lamp and hit himself over the head, rendering himself unconscious. 


	3. He's WHAT?

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Bis-cu-it  
  
  
  
The next morning Harry groggily opened his eyes and rubbed his head. He felt a giant lump there. Whenever he touched this lump he would feel lots of pain shoot through his skull. For the next few minutes he amused himself by poking this lump and feeling the pain. Finally, he grew bored of this little game and decided to go downstairs and get something to eat.  
  
He walked into the kitchen and spotted Aunt Petunia.  
  
"Hey, Aunt Petunia?"  
  
"Yes, Harry?" Answered his aunt.  
  
"You know that new white carpet in my room?"  
  
"Um, yes." She answered a bit uncertainly.  
  
"Well, I kind of spilled grape soda all over it."  
  
"Oh Harry, you didn't?"  
  
"Yup! I sure did!" Answered Harry brightly.  
  
"Please clean it up later, then, will you?"  
  
Harry glared. "Aunt Petunia is making me clean? I knew she hated me! Stupid Dursley's! Why do they make me clean up the house? It's not fair! I don't deserve this treatment! It's EVERY summer! How I hate the summer holidays!"  
  
Suddenly a news report came on the television. It was talking about an escaped convict. Who was it? That's right. You guessed it. Sirius Black.  
  
"Sirius Black is said to be armed and extremely dangerous."  
  
Petunia dropped the plate she was drying. She bit her lip. She knew who this criminal was and what he had done. He'd killed her baby sister, but it was much more than that. She was worried for Harry's safety.  
  
Harry laughed. "Sirius Black! What a dumb name! Hey, wouldn't it be great if his middle name was 'Lee'?" He laughed again. "Sirius Lee Black! Seriously Black! Do you get it? Do you? That's great! I crack myself up!"  
  
Petunia looked out the window, she knew Sirius would be after Harry. She had to find him.  
  
Harry continued laughing. "Sirius Lee Black! Seriously Black! FUNNY! Funny, funny, funny!"  
  
Vernon had noticed how Petunia looked worried, he was concerned, "What's wrong Petunia?"  
  
"THAT'S GREAT! A PUN! IT'S A PUN!"  
  
"Be quiet, Harry. What's wrong, Petunia."  
  
Petunia airily waved Vernon off with a flick of her wrist, "Nothing, nothing."  
  
"There's something wrong! Tell me."  
  
"A PUN!"  
  
"HARRY! Tell me, Petunia."  
  
Petunia spun around angrily, "I said it's NOTHING!"  
  
"It's not nothing, if it were nothing you wouldn't be that upset."  
  
"Just don't."  
  
"Was it.your sister?"  
  
"No, it goes beyond the massive killings."  
  
"Tell me, Love."  
  
"No."  
  
"Tell me!"  
  
"HE WAS MY LOVER!" 


End file.
